


The Salami, The Surgeons, and The Pantry

by AVMabs



Category: Holby City
Genre: Dick Jokes, F/F, Fluff, Holby City Secret Valentine 2018, Picnics, Valentine's Day, i don't know where this went wrong, i was worried it was soulless until i started joking about sacha's salami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 03:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13695735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVMabs/pseuds/AVMabs
Summary: Serena calls upon Sacha's Salami to save Valentine's Day.





	The Salami, The Surgeons, and The Pantry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morvendigby (hookedphantom)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hookedphantom/gifts).



> I can only apologise.

Serena thumbed through the shelves.  “Ah,” she said.  “Crisps.”  She handed the bag to Bernie, who took hold of it.  There was a moment of quiet.  “Breadsticks, camembert…” she bent forward and squinted into a basket on the bottom shelf.  She pulled something out and turned around.

“And a salami from Sacha that I haven’t dared touch, but it’ll have to do.” 

“Well,” said Bernie, eyeing the salami with some trepidation.  “I think we can have ourselves a rather nice afternoon in.”

“Yes,” said Serena.  “I’m sorry about the reservation – Raf did tell me the administration was useless.”

“No need to be sorry,” said Bernie.  “Shall we sit?”

“I think we shall,” said Serena.  “You’ll have to help me back up again, though.”

Bernie smiled.  “I know.”

And so, they lowered themselves to Serena’s pantry’s floor, with a modest spread of meats and cheeses, and a bottle of red wine which seemed to Bernie to have appeared from thin air, though she was sure it had in fact come from one of the many wine orifices in Serena’s home.  After a moment of surveying the spread, Bernie opted for a breadstick.  Good crunch.

“Well,” said Serena.  “It’s better than Wetherspoons.”

“We can still go, if you want,” teased Bernie.  “I’m sure they would find you a good rosé.”

Serena wrinkled her nose.  “Cheap White Zinfandel,” she said.  “I’d rather drink water.”  She pointedly poured herself a glass of red.  “This,” she said, “matured for a year.”

“Can you taste the difference?” asked Bernie.

“Not after three large glasses, no.”

Bernie gave a small laugh.  “Well, you’d best have your three large glasses, and then I’ll switch it with the cheap stuff while you’re not looking.”

Serena fixed her with a stern look.  “I very much hope you don’t,” said Serena.  “You may just find that I tell my housekeeper to hide your reading glasses next time you plan to stay awake with your books and deprive me of a big spoon.”

“Alright,” laughed Bernie.  “I won’t switch your wines after the third glass.”

“Besides,” said Serena.  “I was hoping you would share the bottle with me.”

“I would never say no to that,” said Bernie.  “Though, you usually take out a second wine.”

“Yes,” said Serena.  “And then the afternoon passes in a pleasant haze and I can barely see you properly.”  She paused.  “This evening is pleasant enough already, I think.”

Bernie smiled.  “I think I agree.” 

“Now,” said Serena.  “I think we’d best give this Salami a try.  Appease Sacha.”

Bernie eyed the Salami anxiously.  “I’m not sure,” she said.  “I thought I’d put this…” She gestured at the shape, “behind me.”

Serena raised her eyebrows.  “We’ll cut it up and you’ll be none the wiser.”  She reached behind her, rummaging through the very bottom shelf of the pantry, and emerged with a wicker hamper.  “I knew I was right when I told Edward not to throw this away,” she said.  “It came with a knife _and_ a chopping board, so we don’t even have to move.”

“Excellent,” said Bernie.  “Let’s slice up Sacha’s Salami.”

Halfway through, Serena glanced up at Bernie.  “It’s a bit like surgery,” she said.

“Well,” said Bernie.  “Let’s see if we can swap with the canteen for a day.”

“Let’s not,” said Serena.  “You may fare well, but I expect I’d be slapped in handcuffs for crimes to ethics and morality in seconds.”

Bernie let a soft smile cut rigid lines into crow’s feet around her eyes.  “I’d always bail you out,” she said.  Her eyes fell to the Salami.  “Oh dear,” she said.  “I’m afraid Sacha’s Salami has fallen onto challenging times.”

Serena followed Bernie’s gaze and sighed.  After some beautiful, neat, thin cuts, she had let the Salami get the best of her and was faced with several pieces that were too thin to cut further and too thick to be anything but rubbery and disappointing.  “Oh, bugger,” said Serena.  “I think I’ll have to offer Sacha my apologies.”

“We can eat the first half,” said Bernie, tentatively picking up a slice.  She popped it in her mouth.  “This is alright,” she said.  “Sacha’s a giver.”

“It would explain the wives,” said Serena.

Bernie choked, then, and it took several sips of wine to calm the spasms in her throat, by which time Serena had eaten two slices of the Salami herself.  Still pressing a hand to her chest, she looked up at Serena with bright eyes.  “I fought on the front lines and you managed to disarm me with a joke about Sacha’s Salami.”

“It’s quite disarming,” said Serena.  “Ask Nurse Harrison.”

“I think I’ll avoid doing that, thank you,” said Bernie.  “I’ll take the hearsay instead.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” said Serena with an expression that looked appraising.  “I doubt she’d appreciate the gesture.”

The two fell into companionable silence for a moment.

“Do you know,” said Bernie, “I think this turned out better than that restaurant.”

Serena smiled.  “I’m glad you think so,” she said.  “I might even have enough energy to fight the restaurant about my deposit.”

“After dinner,” said Bernie.  “I want to savour this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Still apologising.


End file.
